Silence

falls

suddenly

on the day after, although

I swear I can hear

the sound of birds again,

Silence

as the bombs and bullets

no longer scream

through the clearing air

of this long hand weaved

burial place for the living,

Silence

for the waters

of impatient tide

that rotted our feet

and sapped our strength

to do anything but survive,

Silence

on this day

never sounded so sweet,

on this day,

the day after

the bombs and bullets stopped.

 

Ian D. Hall 2018